Sperm Donor Wanted

by S. L. Romines

  Well, if skunk’s what we're eating, I'd rather it be that than a swift kick in the ass or a bullet to the heart.

  As Jen turns off the engine, I place my hand on hers. "Thank you."

  An amused look paints across her face. "For what?"

  "For not killing me with that thing," I reply, waving a hand around the shotgun laid across her lap.

  A loud chuckle rips from her mouth. "Oh, honey, don't thank me yet. There's still time for that but there’s something I need ya to see. But first, we eat. Now c'mon. Let's get us some furry skunk ass!"

  Wonderful…

  Skunk is definitely not on the menu. Thank God. I don't think I’ve ever been more relieved about anything in my entire life. The waitress, not so much. Talk about rude and obnoxious as she brings us our plates, chewing her gum to the point of irritating Jen. It’s funny to watch until Big Jen gets pissed. Slinging her fork onto the plate, Jen slowly stands up, gripping the table sides, Jen glares icily at the blonde.

  "Listen here, Flo," Jen grounds out. I look at the woman’s nametag. Definitely not a Flo, and I'm sure my eyes look like those bug-eyed cartoon characters. You know, like a pair of funky Slinkies as I watch the scene play out in front of me. "If you so much as breathe near our food again or pop your gum in my ear again, I'll nail ya so far up your ass you'll be shittin' toenails for a year."

  I snatch up the rest of my double cheeseburger as the management asks us to leave but not before Jen yells out, "You're lucky I don't cut a bitch!"

  Once we leave the diner, I'm finally able to breathe again and decide to make it my life's mission not to piss Jen off during the rest of our trip cause that gun is back in its previous spot nestled right across her lap, taunting me.

  "You sure did tell her back there," I say, jabbing my thumb behind me with a crack in my voice because, let's be real, that shit scared the crap out of me.

  Jen huffs out a simple, "Yeah."

  As we continue down a few shitty paved roads, I try to conjure up in my head where we’re headed. I come up with nothing. We’re still in the same small, rinky-dink, cookie cutter town with no sign of a highway in sight. Ten minutes later Jen presses on the brake pedal and turns onto a dirt road. Looking up, I see a steel arched sign that reads, 'Whispering Willows Cemetery'.

  Panic starts to claw its way up my neck, flipping a quick bitch and slams straight into my gut. I feel sick. Anxiety rears its ugly head as pin pricks gnaw away at my skin. My eyes widen with fear as Jen kills the truck’s engine and extracts the gun from her lap.

  They will never find my body.

  "Get out, Missy, and follow me," she says, sliding out of the truck.

  The whore falls to her knees, clasping her hands together as her fingers intertwine. She shakes her head erratically. I notice a frantic message in the sand that reads, "No! No! No! We're too young! We haven't even seen Roman naked yet!"

  Out of morbid curiosity and probably a death wish or two, I follow behind the shotgun wielding woman.

  “Jen?" I call out, trying to keep up as I pass marked headstones. "Why are we here?"

  Taking a long drag from her cigarette, Jen stops in front of a large headstone and says, "Take a look, Missy."

  I don’t want to. Yes I do. Fuck. I’m such a glutton for punishment that my feet don’t stop until I’m standing next to Jen in front of the same large, marble headstone. When I read the engraving, I’m literally shaken to my core.

  "This right here?" Jen says, pointing to the headstone. "This should make ya understand Roman’s bitterness a little bit better."

  Naomi Simone Blake

  'Fly With the Angels'

  2/11/2015 – 2/17/2015

  Deafening silence swirls around us, and I feel my stomach twist and turn as wild thoughts thrash around inside my head, trying to decipher who this little girl Naomi was.

  "Who is this?" I mutter. "I know all the Blake’s."

  Jen takes a long drag from her cigarette and throws the butt onto the ground, snuffing it out with her boot.

  "Apparently you don't know all of them," she says, pointing to the headstone.

  Frustration builds at her 'beat around the bush' attitude.

  "Then who?" Jen sits down on a bench in front of the little girl's grave and pats the spot next to her. I sit down next to her and ask, "Who is this?"

  Jen takes a deep breath. "Naomi was Roman’s daughter."

  “You’re lying.” The accusatory remark is probably enough to earn me that bullet, but Jen’s expression softens when I continue to speak. “I-I would’ve known if he had a child. Sadie would’ve told me.”

  Another sickening feeling stabs at my insides as I think about what Roman’s life had been like before I busted my way back into it. Before I sprinted toward something I had no right to try a con my way into. I feel like a complete tool, an asshat of epic proportions. I’ve missed so much over the past several years, entirely too much, that I didn’t even know that Roman had a child let alone a child that had only been on this earth for a short time.

  “Wait. If this were true, Sadie would’ve told me.” For a moment, I even doubt my own statement. “What the hell?”

  "Missy, did Roman tell you about that woman he was with? The one that took him for everything he had?" Jen asks, staring straight ahead.

  This can't be real but that ache in my chest says differently.

  "Well, not long before that bitch ran off she found out that she and Roman were gonna have a little one-a girl. Roman was so happy. He bought the baby a world of toys and things she was gonna need. He wanted to be a daddy more than anything, but the problem was she didn't want to be a mama."

  "So what happened?" I ask.

  Jen’s blue eyes flicker towards the headstone. "That woman was so cold that all during her pregnancy she treated Roman like shit. She didn't want him around her and always made up excuses why she couldn't be intimate with him, not even a hug. He tried to love that woman but she just kept on pushin' him away."

  "And what about the baby? She was so young," I reply, feeling tears begin to form behind my eyelids.

  “When they brought Naomi home, Roman was so attentive. He was always getting up with her when she needed a bottle or a changing because that cruel ass woman refused to do it. And then six days after her birth Roman went in one morning to check on the baby and she wasn't breathin'."

  "How?” I ask not even sure that I really want to the know the answer.

  "Crib death. She was found face down in her crib not breathing. It crushed Roman somethin’ horrible."

  Oh my God.

  "That icy, cold bitch just stood there staring at that baby girl while Roman sobbed like a child, holding his little one in his arms. She never even said a word or shed a tear. After the funeral she just up and left. Roman wasn’t home when she wiped him out, leaving his ass with nothing, and he hasn't seen or heard from her since."

  "This is…” I can’t even form a coherent reply as a plethora of emotions ram straight into my chest. “I can’t even imagine.”

  "I know, Missy. I know. But just be certain of one thing. If I ever get my hands on that ragged, self-serving bitch, I'm gonna fuck her world up."

  I have no doubt about that one as a thought crosses my mind. "If she cleaned Roman out how did he land his ranch and the business?"

  Jen went on to explain that Roman had funds in a trust that his grandfather left for him, which he in turn put into a savings for his little Naomi when he found out that his ex was pregnant. When Naomi passed on, he cashed out his savings, leaving his old life behind and never looked back.

  I take a seat on the marble bench in front of the headstone and give my brain a few minutes to process the information.

  "So, now you know," Jen says, patting my leg. "This is why I said that I'd hurt ya if you ever broke his heart ‘cause I knew he'd been through so much already. A person can only take so much, ya know? Roman’s got a big ass heart and it’s taken him this long to mend it."

  "How do you
know all this, Jen?"

  "Sometimes we all need someone to vent to."

  I sniffle back a few tears and turn to face her. "Why did you bring the gun?"

  "You crazy or somthin’? We are two very hot as hell women, Missy. Hot for the snatchin’ and the stealin’. I brought big ole Bertha here for protection from the creepers. Ya can't be too careful. Why, what did you think I brought it for?"

  I bite the inside of my cheek and from the look on her face she knows exactly what I was thinking.

  A loud chuckle rips from Jen’s mouth as she pats me on the back. "Honey, if I wanted ya dead, you would've already been dead."

  That statement doesn't sit well with me. At. All. Ever.

  "You about ready, Missy?"

  "For?"

  "To go home," she says, standing up. "You wanna go home don't ya?"

  I stay silent and look back at the baby girl's headstone and take a deep breath.

  Jen eyes me for a moment before asking, "Or is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

  Chapter 14

  Ugly Words and Blubbering Imps

  ~Gia~

  My heart is beating a thousand miles a minute as I look at the white front door and try to will down the anger that has taken up residence where my heart should be.

  After leaving the cemetery Jen had asked me where I wanted to go. I knew what she was implying. It would’ve been so easy for me to tell her to take me back to the ranch, back to Roman, but I couldn’t. Trust and believe it took everything I had not to rush back to him and apologize for being an inconsiderate asshole. I just hope that in time he’ll be able to forgive my intentions and know that I never wanted to hurt him, especially the way his ex had.

  After taking a deep, calming breath I raise my hand and knock a little harder than I normally would. I few seconds go by. I hate waiting but this is different. I’m on edge and the brink of an anxiety meltdown. Not a good combination. My irritation bubbles to the surface when the door opens and a look of shock registers on Sadie’s face.

  "Gia?"

  "I need my things."

  Sadie bites down on her bottom lip and her eyes are everywhere but on me.

  "My things, Sadie!" I snap, getting thoroughly impatient as I watch the little imp fidget and procrastinate.

  Sadie’s eyes widen and her tiny frame bounces back from the force of my words.

  "Gia." Here come the unwanted excuses. "I was a tool. I shouldn’t have split like that but my cousin is one scary fucker and he literally scared the piss out of me.”

  I take a breath and will the irritation back before I reply. "I just came here to get whatever I left in your car. I would like to be able to go home, get in my house, take a shower and forget that any of this ever happened. Do you possibly think that you can just keep whatever sorry pathetic excuse you have for leaving me stranded to yourself so I can do that because frankly, Sadie, I don’t give a shit anymore. Friends don’t leave friends like that.”

  When she hears Jen rev up her truck, Sadie peers around me.

  "Who…who's that?"

  I roll my eyes because this stalling bullshit is getting on my last nerve.

  I jab my thumb over my shoulder. "That is someone who was kind enough to get me back home so it shouldn't fucking matter to you. Now please, just get my shit so I can get the hell out of here."

  Sadie’s shoulders slump as she retreats back into her house only to reappear minutes later with my belongings in hand. "Here," she says, never meeting my eyes.

  Without a response, a thank you, or even a kiss my ass, I grab my purse, turn and head for Jen’s beater. But before I can make it off the porch, Sadie gives that apology one last try.

  "I'm sorry, Gia," she says, her words stumbling over the other. "I…I'm sorry for leaving you there with my asshole cousin. I just-"

  Something in me snaps, and the overwhelming urge to protect Roman is ever present.

  "You wait one damn minute, Sadie!" My tone is sharp and clipped, earning yet another shocked expression from my friend. "You have no right to talk shit about Roman. Who do you think you are to even breathe a word of ugly about him after what you did to me?"

  I watch as she opens and closes her mouth a few times, but no words come out. When I move a few steps closer to my best friend, the meaning of those two words leaving a bad taste in my mouth, Sadie literally freezes and her eyes once again go wide.

  "I stayed two days, two long days, at his house. I met the strangest people there who, incidentally, regardless of their funky smell, bad hygiene, lack of clothes and the weirdest damn lingo ever, are the kindest, most awesome people that I have ever met in my entire life." I take a breath and force myself to continue. "But you know what's funny? They treated me like family," I say, turning and looking over at Jen, "Nothing spared. They were blunt and forthcoming. Not shadowed and sugar coated like some people I know. So, before you go passing judgment on others, you should really take a good, long look in the mirror because if I had to choose you over them, I’d no doubt choose the weirdos over my fake best friend."

  I take another breath and continue.

  "I've dealt with cow shit, smelly armpits, and I've seen things that require brain bleach to forget. On the flipside, I watched a man-a very broken man, open up his house to someone who needed a friend the most. Me. Your asshole cousin welcomed me when you went off and ditched me. So don’t stand there and breathe another foul word about him. Not today. Not ever. Or I might be inclined to punch you in the throat.”

  I pause for a moment and try to regain any fragment of self-composure that I can rally up.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Roman’s little girl, Naomi?”

  “I…I didn’t think it was important.”

  “You didn’t think it was important? Really, Sadie?” I draw in a deep breath. “You knew about Roman’s little girl and you let me go make an ass out of myself? You could’ve told me, Sadie. You could’ve told me and none of this would’ve ever happened."

  Before Sadie can respond, I grip onto my purse when she hands it to me and head toward Jen’s truck. The sound of sniffling behind me is all too present as I try to tune out my crying friend. I should feel bad for speaking to her that way. Never in our entire friendship have I ever cut Sadie down like that but she deserved it in more ways than one.

  Once I'm settled in the cab of Jen’s truck, I let out a shaky breath as the tears begin to stream down my face. At this moment, my life seems several notches of fucked up, and now it feels that I've just done something I never thought I would do. I've written off my best friend.

  Chapter 15

  Dear Abby, Dr. Phil, and the Zen Master

  ~Roman~

  The last three weeks have gone by at a snail's pace. I’ve had enough interventions from the guys to last me a lifetime. Ol’ Jet thinks he's got it all figured out in the romance department but having the world's worst track record with women should by no means be giving romance advice to anyone ever. And then there’s Dirk. He actually wanted me to lie down on his dusty ass couch so he could talk to me regarding matters of the heart. He says that he knows all about this stuff because he watched Dr. Phil one time when he was home sick with diarrhea and a head cold. I'm so sick and tired of these fools trying to tell me what I should do about Gia. And Caleb? Well, he's been playing classical music in the barn for the last few days, convinced it’ll help me find my Zen. I don’t know what a Zen is and have no desire to fucking find it. As far as I’m concerned, they all just need to leave me the hell alone because none of this shit’s going work.

  At the very least, I finally took a damn shower but completely gave up on shaving. To be honest, it looks like a Chia Pet has staked claim on my face. I look like crap and it's getting itchy as hell.

  I'm brought out of my Debbie Downer episode when I hear knocking at my front door.

  "Go away, Dirk!" I shout, hoping like hell my nutty ass friend will get the hint.

  I'm over the conversations and advice that clearly sho
uld never be given by a band of idiots that have no place giving it. Besides, there’s nothing anyone can do. I blew it. I let her go. She showed up here out of the blue, she made me feel for the first time in years and then I let her run right out of my life without even giving her the opportunity to explain. I jumped the gun and made assumptions like I always do, and now I feel nothing.

  The knocking continues and so does my irritation.

  "Not now, Dirk!"

  Once the knocking finally stops, I settle back onto the couch and start flipping through the television channels, trying to find anything to keep my mind preoccupied.

  The Discovery Channel.

  Click.

  ESPN.

  Click.

  Spike TV.

  Click.

  The History Channel.

  Click.

  Hallmark Channel.

  I’m not usually one to watch sappy tear-jerkers but the beautiful blonde on the screen is enough to make me put the brakes on and give it a go. I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is Gia.

  I wanted her so much, but she's unobtainable and too good to be true.

  My Gia.

  No, she isn't my Gia. Hell, she never was. Maybe she could've been, but she's not. Maybe she wanted to be. Maybe I wanted her to be but I guess we’ll never know.

  I run a hand roughly through my hair. I'm pretty sure that I’m losing my goddamned mind. Shrugging off that nagging feeling, I flip off the TV and head toward the kitchen dead set on grabbing the entire case of beer I have stashed in my fridge and binge drink until I pass out. After that mind fuckery, it’s time to get shit-faced. As I reach the kitchen the knocking starts up again, jolting me where I stand.

  "Holy crap!" I take a couple deep breaths. "Someone's fixing to get a royal ass kicking. I'm sick of talking to you crazy assholes!"

  I make my way to the front door hell bent on beating the crap out of whoever it is that just won't get the fucking hint. I grip the doorknob and as soon as I swing it all the way open, my heart momentarily stops.